Gray day

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Last night, we were subjected to torrential rain, lightening that lit up the sky and thunder that literally shook the house. We knew it was coming. The weatherman told us, the television beeped warnings at the bottom of the screen, and my amateur meteorologist husband told me to get ready.

No one told the dog. He will run from the vacuum but is pretty true and steady during the worst of storms. Not last night.

He whined, paced from window to window, huffed and sighed. At 2:30 a.m., he bumped the bed to wake me. Out we went, during the storm so he could relieve his nervous bladder. 

In the end, I slept on the sofa with my four legged baby pressed as close to the sofa as he could get. I hung my arm over the side, resting it on his back so he knew I was there. Finally, he calmed himself and I heard his breathing change. 

Just like a child, he has his sleeping sounds.

Today is gloomy and wet. I am fighting off sleep while my furry companion snores loudly behind me. 

Something's not right with this picture.